


More Than These

by CadetDru



Series: Stare Straight At The Sun [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fallen Angels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, The Arrangement (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-08 04:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale had a polite and hushed argument before Aziraphale conducted his test in private





	1. What's Done Can't Be Undone

Crowley and Aziraphale walked through a park, fed some ducks bread, and had a polite and hushed argument. The world was five years away from ending. They had been getting along so well, working together as a team of two. Now Aziraphale had betrayed Crowley.

Crowley was the hushed one, trying to keep his voice down: "You have Satanists watching to see if I use my holy water. You have Satanists watching me. You have Satanists, for Hell's sake!"

"I didn't want to have them," Aziraphale said. He was being the polite one. "I was doing you that little favor and I just collected them. I can't be having you near any churches, any holy water, any of my side's doing. The Arrangement is as close as you can come." 

"I don't think that's under your control, angel," Crowley hissed. His hiss was hushed, it worked perfectly.

"Holy water would destroy you."

"I know. If I didn't know before, angel, I would know because you keep telling me. I've never needed you to tell me."

"I've wondered if it would destroy me."

"The other thing I know, because you keep telling me, is that I'm Fallen and you're not."

"I worry, sometimes," Aziraphale said, softly.

"About me or you?"

"About us, as a singular entity. We've met at the same level, You're... you're…"

"Angel, what are we talking about?"

"I'm the nice one. You're the good one."

Crowley was dedicated to the concept of hushed and discreet that smoke began to issue from behind the lenses of his dark glasses. He kept his voice level, took the hiss out of it. "I think you're a little confused, angel. And you need to never say anything like that ever again."

"I should test it," Aziraphale said.

"Too dangerous," Crowley said immediately. The implication was clear and had to be unfounded. An angel could easily interface with holy water. Aziraphale was an angel. Crowley said it all the time. 

"Only for the Fallen, isn't that the point?" Aziraphale said. "So why would there be a danger for me?"

"You can't test something like that," Crowley hissed. "What if you're… what if you had…"

"I wouldn't do it in front of you," Aziraphale, thinking he was being comforting. "Imagine I'm right... I'm wrong... imagine it does…"

"Are you trying to find a way to destroy yourself, blame yourself for sins that are not your own? It won't work, angel. And I can't be having you find destruction in another way, either."

"You're thinking it too. I've been corrupted over the years."

"Then I'm the one who corrupted you?" Crowley asked.

"You can take the credit if you want, but I hardly think it's deserved."

"Another thing under your control? Like everything else."

"I control very little. Just what's important to me." 

Crowley walked off, storming away without another word. Aziraphale watched him go.

  
  



	2. Not On My Soul

Aziraphale had a closed flask of holy water and an open bottle of wine on the desk before him, a wineglass and a hand towel between the two. He sat in a comfortable chair in his bookshop, and regarded both warily.

He poured himself a glass of wine. He wasn't scared. He had no reason to be scared. He could feel God's Love and God's Light throughout his being. He felt no different that evening than he had inside the Garden itself. He was as good and pure an angel as he had ever been.

As he had ever been.

Crowley had been right, giving Adam and Eve the sword hadn't been the wrong thing to do. Aziraphale realized later, much later, centuries later that Crowley admitted he had been sarcastic that day. Crowley had undoubtedly done the good thing, he had been right when he floated that idea.

"Death before dishonor," Aziraphale said aloud, not even to himself. He'd rather not exist at all than be completely fallen from grace. 

The wineglass was empty. He filled it again.

Crowley had never told him how it had felt to Fall, but it would be different after humanity than before. There were more types of life. Falling could mean stopping at a human level, couldn't it? A human could tolerate holy water. They touched it all the time. It had no effect. 

The wineglass had emptied itself again. Aziraphale was almost tipsy, almost drunk enough to try it. There was nothing to be afraid of. He was not looking into oblivion. Angels had nothing to fear. It was only demons like Crowley who had something to fear.

Aziraphale opened the flask. The wine bottle still had wine in it. Aziraphale started addressing it directly, drinking straight from the bottle.

He wasn't afraid. He thought that God would protect him, before making himself think the thought that he didn't need any protection. There was no danger to him.

He opened the flask, put his wrist on the towel. He took a deep and unnecessary breath, and poured a small amount of water onto the inside of his wrist. He righted the flask and waited for something to happen.

He put the flask down, picked up the wine bottle, and drank. His wrist was still wet with the inert holy water. He didn't use the towel until the wine bottle was empty.

That was it. He was safe, he was good, he was pure. He considered opening a second bottle to celebrate his successful test. 

He called Crowley instead.

"I'm sorry," he said, after identifying himself and establishing that it was indeed Crowley on the other end. "I didn't mean to upset you. I know that I'm… that I didn't… I know what I am."

"You don't need to apologize, angel," Crowley said, as graciously as was possible under the circumstances. "I know you didn't really think that."

"Of course not," Aziraphale lied. Lying came easily to him. Lying was why he had been worried. He was more protected than he had thought. Crowley was not, and Crowley could not and would not be permitted to try this same test. Aziraphale said none of that.

They ended the call, back on amiable terms. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
